


The One Where Quinlan's a Werewolf

by der_tanzer



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murray knows when to be cautious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Quinlan's a Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinx_r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/gifts).



> Written for a LiveJournal fic meme.

Murray knew when to start being cautious. He watched the calendar, of course, but he also watched Ted. The first sign was always a sort of friskiness. It might manifest itself in sexual desire, or just an urge to repaint the house, but whenever Ted got too excited about something, Murray took note. Because the second sign? Was mood swings.

When Ted started growling about everything, up to and including the color of the house he’d just painted, Murray went to the store and bought up a supply of steak. A lot of steaks. Some of them with bones, although the crunching make his skin crawl.

After two days of crankiness came the hair. It never became a real pelt, but that was when Murray pulled the shades and put the Fox bars on the doors. No one knew their secret. No one saw the retired Lieutenant grow lean and furry, his ears slightly pointed, his face subtly elongated, his primal needs overtaking his human nature. Their friends saw him in his normal state and thought of a dog brought to heel by a patient master. They didn’t need to see how true it was.

Murray turned off the stove and forked two bloody, body-temperature steaks onto a plate. He carried them down to the basement where the love of his life lay curled on a torn mattress, a thick collar around his neck secured to an overhead beam by a heavy chain. Ted sat up at the smell of the meat, or maybe it was the smell of Murray, and grinned wolfishly, exposing his fangs. When the plate was offered, he swiped it aside with one paw and grabbed Murray’s hand instead. He pulled his skinny ( _keeper, lover, master, toy?_ ) husband onto the mattress and tore his clothes off with sharp claws that never nicked the flesh inside.

The first time this happened, Murray had been terrified. But it had been two years now and he trusted this wolf-husband who rolled him about, pawing and licking him all over. Even when he was pinned face down with an enlarged but clearly human cock pressed to his ass, he knew it was still his own lover who had never hurt him and never would. Of course that didn’t mean he didn’t make preparations before coming downstairs. It would be stupid not to. He closed his eyes and growled in pleasure as Ted entered him, a low rumble interspersed with the small yips and whines that were for now their common language.

Ted came fast this first time, but there would be more. For the next couple days there would be all they could stand. He pulled out and turned toward the steaks on the floor, only to turn back when Murray snapped his fingers. Still grinning his wicked and wolfish grin, he flung himself down on the mattress, chain rattling, and took his master’s dick in his mouth. He brought Murray to a swift climax, both of them panting and growling their satisfaction, then licked him thoroughly while Murray’s long fingers worked through Ted’s fur and scratched behind his ears. Only when Murray lay back, utterly relaxed, did Ted slide onto the floor and, crouched on his haunches, his short tail wagging busily, eat the still-warm steak.

Thank God real life wasn’t like the movies.


End file.
